The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1887-05-07

around the fountains are gay and sweet
with pansies, myosotis or lilies Of the val.
ley. White lilacs fill the flower stands
with their pale beauty and faint fragrance,
80 associated with springtime at the gay
capital.
Tho Salon is crowded with visitors, and a
little group Is collected around a painting
which seems to attract universal attention.
Mrs. Clarke and Lindsay Bell saunter care.
lessly about, awaiting their turn with some
curiosity to discover what Is the attraction.
"Do you know the subject, Lindsay"
Mrs. Bell refers to her catalogue.
mo. 12-. "A Moonlight Parting"
Before she notes the artists name the
group disperses and they step up to SEQ
WHAT desolate hillside, with higher
hills beyond; sunken graves; fallen stones
brambles and fiery tiger-lilies. Under a
densely dark cedar tree stand man and a
woman hand.in-hand; deep, ghostly shad-
ows lie around them; pale moonlight
makes 1t clear enough to see that the
woman is OF lovely form and features, that
the man Is fair and young That the part
ing is hopeless and forever, one may easily
divine.
The twoofriends stand before the picture
as the others have done, as II spellbound.
ut is most fascinating; and some way
feel as II had been there" says Mrs.
Clarke musingly. ~ must have seen some
place like 1t somewhere; and from the
depth Of tho autumn coloring seen so dis
tinctly through the half light, should say
the scene was in America. Don't you think
so, Lindsay"
Lindsay's eyes are softly shining, her
voice shakes little as she answers. Eyes,
you have seen 1.-THE old cemetery at Reve-
ville-and, see here, the artists name ID
Arthur Vinton."
Mrs. Clarke drops her gold-bound pince.
nez in surprise not unmingled with alarm.
"That young mechanic, the errand boy you
employed to carry your clay! Is it posi-
BILE! Well well, this is indeed republican
age, when potters turn into artists and have
pictures hung in the Salon!"
"Oh! Minnie, don't be nonsensical,"
laughs her friend, lightly. "Have you for
gotten all the list of celebrities who were
not by any means born in the purplel
wonder if he will call! 1 shall send our
cards and address to-day. am most anxious
to see him."
Mrs. Clarke murmurs indistinct disap
proval, while she studies the canvas.
o"HS' oho "oiuHiSs SOh-
siderately; "let us move on and come back
after while.'
"But these figures remind me of-of-you,
and the-1 hesitate to express it-but really,
my dear, the artist seems to have pictured
himself as parting from you'll"
perhaps you are right" replied Mrs.
Bell quietly, ''as thought noticed it too"
'Surely, Lindsay-m
swell, Minnie!"
SIS this scene from life? a memory!"
"Partly so, l admit; but the artist, as IL
usual with the craft, has idealized it little,
thrown in touch Of telling sentiment in
the attitudes, and all that. There, Minnie,
don't fret. He is very likely the pet lion Of
Paris just now, and if he goes on as he has
begun, he will continue to be. I feel very
pleased at his success"
Mrs. Clarke finds nothing moro to say;
and when, in speedy answer to the invita-
tion, Mr.. Vinton calls, and she meets him
at all the best houses on the Faubourg St.
German, as we'll as on Avenue Villiers and
by Pare Monceau, she conveniently forgets
the shabby pottery, with it's big chimneys,
and altogether refuses to remember that
the yellow-halred young workman and the
fair, pose, even distinguished gentleman,
whose presence is sought as favor, are
one and the same.
Lindsay, too, is beginning to lose one
identity in the other; but Mr.. Vinton never
forgets. He is courteous, attentive, always
ready to escort the ladies here. or there; but
he never establishes himsolf en- ami intinls,
and retires quietly when any one else is
there to take his place. At last Lindsay be-
gins to feel this, and she is sorry for it. Her
manner grows kinder; but he does not ad-
vance an inch. The round of gaYety con-
tinues without cessation until there comes
rainy day. 1t is no ordinary blossom
storm, but rather tempest; the wind
drives by wailing and bowling like a hurri-
cane. The trees writhe and bend, and the
gay parterres are hopelessly spoiled; pansies,
myosotis, and fragrant lilies of the valley
are beaten into the mud beyond all recog-
milton.
Mrs. Clarke is laid up with mgraine, and
Lindsay sits alone in her pretty drawing
room, consoling herself as she can by a
bright wood fire, with books and work; but
she feels dull. After living out of doors so
much, she finds whole days confinement
insupportable. She is yawning dismally
when Mr.. Vinton is announced, and she re-
ceives him with an exclamation Of Joy.
81 know the dullness of rainy day in
come to try to beguile your ennui; for you
must admit that you were ennuyee. 1 saw
it plainly from your rapture at my appear
ance."
II was little bored, to be sure" she
confesses naively; shut am always glad
to see you, Mr.. Vinton." What have you
there, your portfolio 2 OIL how good of
you to venture with it through all this
storm"
II came in a cab; your ports-cochere re-
ceived me under its hospitable shelter, and
here am, safe and dry. How pleasant
your fire is. l am sorry to hear that Mrs.
Clarke is indisposed.
eyes, headache"
Lindsay draws forward a low table, and
for the next hour they bend together over
the pictures; she questioning, criticising,
commenting, he explaining and occasion.
ally asking her opinion or advice for the
working out Of studies. At last she stoops
lower over picture she holds, and exam
ines it in silence, while he watches her
with q shade OF anxiety. But she ventures
no remark, merely laying it down with
heightened color; then shyly glancing up
she meets his eyes, and the warm blood
rushes over face and neck while she puts
up her hands in confusion to hide her fam
ing cheeks.
"You understand the subjectW he in.
quires collectedly, without noticing her en-
bsrrsssment.
eyes, It illustrates verse from The Nut.
Browne Maybe
.And you pardon me for giving her your
likenessl Indeed, could not help It. Per-
haps deserve your censure for thus paint
ing You from memory without your permits
sion. II so, am here at your mercy. Scold